


even the rogue horticulturist

by Leprechon



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, even likes plants and has questionable taste in fashion, isak hates statistics and fights a vending machine, jonas uses too much hair product and antagonizes isak, sana fights isak and hates flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leprechon/pseuds/Leprechon
Summary: even likes plantsmeanwhile, isak takes an interest in the boy who sits in front of him in his 8 am lecture





	1. the beetginning

Isak wants to go back in time and slap himself in the face.

He really does.

He wants to go back in time, grab his past self by the shoulders, and yell until past Isak relents and agrees not to register for an eight A.M. class, thereby saving himself an entire semester full of self-hatred and misery. 

Isak doesn't know what prompted his past self to screw his present self over as much as he did. On a good day, Isak doesn't even get out of bed until ten A.M. (and that's on a  _good_ day, mind you). Isak doesn't even  _like_ statistics enough to actually make the effort to get out of bed at an ungodly hour and pretend to act like a fully-functioning human being, which is what he might've done for another course, like biology, if there was no other option. 

Isak figures he was probably out of sorts on registration day; he must've had either a chemical imbalance in his brain or a synapse had misfired or something. Or maybe the fumes and chemicals from his roommate Jonas' numerous hair products had finally seeped into his body after prolonged and unwanted exposure, messing something up in his brain and causing him to do what he had done.

Either way he's just going to blame it all on Jonas, toxic hair products or not. He's going to make Jonas buy him a tea at the cafe after their classes are over for compensation, and he won't even make Jonas grovel  _that_ much.

 _Good plan Isak,_ Isak thinks, mentally patting himself on the back.

He's really proud of himself.

Isak checks the time, almost groaning out loud when he finds that barely fifteen minutes have passed since the start of the lecture.

Isak momentarily drops his head into his hands, scrubbing harshly across his eyes.

_Shit._

The professor's voice is like a dull drone in the background as he lectures, and Isak sleepily surveys the rest of the room, unsurprised when he sees that a vast majority of people are either sleeping or are preoccupied with their phones or computers. Isak raises his eyebrows, sneaking a glance at his professor. The professor doesn't particularly seem to care that no one is listening to him, and Isak sees that even  _he_ looks two seconds away from passing out right there and then, if his drooping eyes and lackadaisical movements are any indication.

Isak blinks, rolling his eyes.

 _Classes this early are so shit that no one wants to be here, not even the professor_ , Isak thinks sourly.

Isak looks around again, marveling at how he'd managed to spend almost a month and a half with these people, yet he doesn't know who any of them are. Most of them look like the type of people that Isak would hate anyway, so he doesn't beat himself up too much.

Isak's gaze passes the person sitting directly in front of him, doing a double take when the person's laptop screen catches the corner of his eye.

Isak squints, tilting his head.

_...Is he looking at pictures of squash?_

Isak blinks, rubbing at his eyes furiously to make sure his sleep deprived brain isn't playing tricks on him.

He can't see the boy's face, just the back of his blonde head and his broad shoulders. He's slouched in his seat, seemingly impervious to his surroundings, and he's intently scrolling up and down the webpage, pausing on every single picture of squash to study it for a few seconds before he moves on. After about a minute of doing this, the boy pauses on a picture of a long green squash that he apparently likes enough to copy and paste it into a document in a separate tab. The picture is pasted after a wall of text that Isak is too far away to read, but he suspects it has something to do with vegetables. 

Isak shakes his head, looking at the people surrounding him to see if anyone has noticed this odd behavior. No one around him seems to have noticed it, or maybe they have but just aren't bothered to care. Either way Isak is  _intrigued_. Who would look at pictures of vegetables during a lecture on statistics, let alone during  _any_ lecture of any subject? Who would even look at pictures of vegetables at all?

It's an innocuous activity, sure. But Isak is so sleep-deprived and so bored that he'd welcome any distraction, honestly. 

Isak watches Squash Guy for the rest of the lecture, captivated by how adeptly his long fingers move across the keyboard. Since Isak had first taken note of him, Squash Guy has copied and pasted four more pictures of squash into his document and has typed out two more long paragraphs.

Isak desperately wants to know what he's doing.

Before he knows it, however, class is over. Isak is pulled out of his intent staring by a flurry of activity in his peripheral, which turns out to be the students around him getting up and packing up their things. Isak haphazardly shoves his pens and paper into his bag and stands up, slinging it over his shoulder. He peeks over at the seat in front of him, and is disappointed to see that Squash Guy is gone, vanished without a trace.

Isak lets out a disappointed sigh, frowning.

He stands at his seat for a minute, contemplating, before he is brought out of his reverie by someone who rushes past him, almost knocking him over. Isak scowls after them, turning to follow them outside.

 _Next class might be fun_ , Isak thinks tentatively.

 

* * *

 

Isak stares at the vending machine in front of him.

"Why are you doing this to me," Isak whispers.

He crouches down, almost banging his head on the machine in the process, and stares up at the bag of Chex Mix that is caught in the slot of the vending machine. The bag of Chex Mix stares back, almost mockingly. 

Isak had rushed out of his dorm this morning without any breakfast, eager to get to the library to start studying for his biology exam the next day. After four hours, he had taken notice of how hungry he felt, and had barely scrounged up enough money from his pockets and bag to buy himself the cheapest option in the vending machine, which is a bag of Chex Mix.

Isak groans, placing a hand on his stomach as it lets out an incessant growl. He glares at the bag and feels the urge to shake his fist at it.

"Fuck my life," he mutters angrily, narrowing his eyes. "I hate this fucking machine. This is so fucking annoying. I hate this piece of shit vending machine so fuc-"

"Hello."

This time, Isak really does bang his head against the machine. He jerks up and whirls around, clutching at his head as a surge of pain rushes through him.

"God-!"

The boy in front of him gasps, his hands flying to his mouth. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you!" His tone is worried and frantic.

Isak rubs his head. His face is flushed, his head is pounding, and, as he begins to regain his bearings, Isak starts to realize that this stranger is rather attractive.

Heinously,  _unfairly_ attractive. Like, almost Greek god level of attractive.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay," Isak mumbles, flushing red. This attractive stranger had just caught him swearing at a vending machine.  _A vending machine_. 

 _God_ , he's so embarrassed he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

"Are you sure?" the boy asks, blinking. His eyes are big and blue, obscured by a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and Isak wants to die because he's so cute.

"Y-yeah. I'm peachy."

Isak bites his lip and avoids the boy's eyes, trying desperately to think of something to say to lift the awkward silence that has descended upon them. His gaze lands on the boy's attire, which consists of slacks, a button up, and a tie. Isak frowns. 

_Why the hell is he so dressed up? It's just the librar-_

Isak pauses, squinting his eyes and stares hard at the boy's tie.

"Are. Are those  _carrots_ on your tie?" Isak asks incredulously. 

The boy's eyes widen and a big smile replaces the slight downturn to his mouth. The boy's long fingers reach for the tie and fiddle with it, bringing it close for Isak to inspect. "Yeah! Isn't it so cool? It's one of my favorite ties."

Isak studies it, wrinkling his nose. The tie is a garish blend of brown, green, and orange, and the combination only serves to make his head hurt. Isak decides that it's one of the _ugliest_ things he's ever seen in his entire life. He doesn't have the heart to ruin this boy's enthusiasm, though, so he plasters on a delighted smile and tries to look appropriately pleased.

"It's really cool, dude. Suits you," Isak says. 

The boy smiles wider, if possible, and pushes up his glasses. "Thanks! I saw it at the shop by chance, out of the corner of my eye, and I couldn't believe it when I picked it up! What a steal, right? I needed more ties anyway, because of my job here as a library assistant. Gotta dress to impress and everything. I love carrots, they're one of my favorite vegetables. Do you have a favorite vegetable?"

Isak blinks.

"Uh, squash," Isak says, blurting out the first vegetable that comes to mind.

"Awesome! I love squash." The boy glances behind Isak, furrowing his eyebrows. "So what's your problem here? You were kinda just crouched on the floor, aggressively muttering to yourself, so I thought I'd come over and help you out."

Isak groans. "My, um, stupid Chex Mix bag got caught in the vending machine. I can't get it unstuck."

The boy's smile droops and he steps forward. "That's rough. I'm _so_ sorry." The boy looks genuinely apologetic, with wide eyes and a concerned expression, as if he's actually worried about the state of Isak's Chex Mix bag.

Isak is _e_ _nthralled_.  

Isak shrugs it off, trying to look unbothered. "S'okay."

The boy steps closer to Isak and looks resolute. "Hm. Don't worry. Let me see if I can help." The boy stands and stares at the vending machine for a few beats of silence, his head cocked. Finally, he seems to come to a conclusion, and he reaches out and thumps the screen of the machine with his closed fist, just once.

Isak blinks. "What."

The boy turns around to face Isak. He looks embarrassed. "Sorry, uh. That looked cooler in my head," the boy says sheepishly.

Isak just stares.

"Anyway!" the boy says and shakes his head, clapping his hands. "Let's shake it. Maybe that'll do something."

The boy walks around the side of the machine and begins to rock it. He looks back over at Isak and frowns. "You're not helping."

Isak snaps out of his trance and rushes to the opposite side. "Sorry, sorry!"

They both begin to shake the vending machine, and Isak stops after a few moments, peering into the glass.

"Did it move?" the boy asks.

"No," Isak says. He frowns. This is  _so_ much more trouble than it's worth.

"Forget it. It's not that big of a deal anyway. I didn't pay that much for it. Thanks, though," Isak says. This boy is a  _library assistant_. Isak is sure that the boy has better things to do than deal with a rogue vending machine. 

"No!" the boy says hurriedly. He steps forward and places his hand on Isak's arm. Isak tries to ignore how hard his heart is beating and how his stomach is currently tying itself into knots. "We must try again!"

"Fine," Isak mumbles, rolling his eyes. He stares at the machine. "What if...What if I stick my hand in there and try to get it uncaught?" Isak is pretty sure this'll work. He saw it on an episode of an American television show once.

"Perfect!" the boy says enthusiastically. Isak is starting to think that this boy is enthusiastic about almost everything.

The boy takes off his tie and rolls up his sleeves, as if  _he's_ the one who's going to be putting his hand in the machine.

Isak is endeared. 

Isak kneels down and sticks his hand in the slot. From his position, he cannot see inside the machine, so he gropes blindly around the contraption. "Hey, can you tell me where I should put my hand? I can't see."

The boy peers over Isak's head. "Go right."

Isak moves his hand to the right.

"No, not that right. The other right!"

_Is he serious?_

Isak huffs. "What do you mean the other right? There's only one right!"

The boy stares at him incredulously, as if Isak had asked a particularly inane question. "There's a difference between your right and my right."

"We're facing the same direction!"

The boy waves him off, flippant. "Whatever. Go left then."

Isak moves his hand to the left.

"Stop! Wait, go back. Stop now. Now go up. Yes, it's perfect!"

Isak's hand finally closes around the bag, and he grins victoriously. His stomach gurgles at him in celebration. "Thank God!" Isak says, beginning to pull his arm out of the machine. He stops short.

His arm is stuck.

Isak freezes, staring down in shock. He tugs some more, almost on the brink of tears as his arm doesn't budge.

"I."

The boy chews on his lip, worried. "What? What's wrong?"

"I can't pull my arm out of the machine. I think it's stuck."

The boy's eyes widen. He looks like he's about to faint. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

They fall silent.

The boy contemplates this for a moment. "May I?" he asks, gesturing to Isak's arm. Isak nods.

The boy places both hands around Isak's forearm and gives three experimental tugs, frowning when Isak's arm remains caught. "Wow. It really  _is_ stuck in there. Huh." A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face.

Isak fish-mouths incredulously. "Uh, no shit?" Isak rolls his eyes.

The boy swallows audibly, tugging at his collar. "Sorry, sorry."

Isak just sighs.

"Okay," the boy says, a bit shakily. He takes off his glasses and wipes them on his shirt, looking flustered. Isak almost feels bad for him. "Okay. We'll fix this. I'll fix this."

The boy shakes his head nervously, putting his glasses back on. He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight. "I'm gonna try to look inside and see what you're caught on, okay? And then we can work from there, I guess. Everything alright?"

Isak nods.

The boy cranes his neck and shines the flashlight into the depths of the machine. As he inspects the slot with his phone flashlight, his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth, a move that Isak immediately zeroes in on.

Isak clears his throat, blushing slightly. "Everything okay? Did you see anything?"

The boy straightens up, turning off the flashlight and scratching his head, puzzled. He looks even more flustered than before. "Your hand's kind of smushed in there real well so I couldn't tell. Uh, let's see. Can you wiggle your fingers?"

Isak pauses.

"I. I don't know."

The boy stares at him. "What do you mean you don't know?" he asks slowly. 

Isak shrugs, feeling ridiculous. Fuck this. Why is he being criticized by a boy wearing a _fucking carrot tie_? "I just can't tell, okay? I don't even know how to explain it."

The boy looks puzzled for a moment before something dawns on him. He closes his eyes, looking as if he'd just aged ten years in the span of ten seconds.

"Are...are you holding  _on_ to the bag?"

Isak immediately scoffs, feeling scandalized. "What? What are you even talking about? Of _course_ I'm not fucking holding on to the-"

"Hey. Hey!"

Isak falls quiet.

"Just, let go of the bag," the boy says, exasperated.

Isak lets go of the bag.

The bag drops to the bottom of the slot with a  _thunk!_ and Isak pulls his arm free easily, reveling at how relatively unscathed it looks.

"Whoops?" Isak says, looking sheepish. 

The boy stares at the ground. He looks like he wants to die. Slowly and carefully, the boy reaches his arm into the machine and pulls out the bag. He drops it in front of Isak. "Well. That was something."

Isak giggles, picking up the bag and standing up. "Um. Yeah. Thanks for your help, man. It, uh, meant a lot." Isak holds up the bag and wiggles it for emphasis.

The boy stands up as well and dusts himself off. He rolls down his sleeves and begins to put his tie back on. "It was a real pleasure. I gotta get back to work, but. Thank you for the experience, really. Next time we meet, I hope it doesn't involve a vending machine, though. I think we should both stay away from them in the future."

"Ha, ha. Very funny," Isak says sarcastically, trying to hide how hard his heart is beating suddenly, roaring like thunder in his ears.

_Next time. He said there's going to be a next time._

The boy gives him a toothy smile and runs his hand through his hair, slicking it back. He salutes. "Bye. I'll see you around."

"Later."

Isak watches him leave and, as soon as the boy rounds the corner, Isak drops his head in his hands, only mildly annoyed when the rough plastic of the Chex Mix bag brushes against his face. He sighs.

One of the hottest guys he's ever seen in his entire life, and Isak just _had_ to go and embarrass himself. Even worse, the hottest guy Isak has ever seen had been wearing a  _carrot tie_.

Isak huffs, spinning around on his heels and walking out of the library, treacherous Chex Mix bag clutched tightly in his grasp. He'll come back for his books and bag later. All he wants right now is to put as much distance between himself and the library as he can. Hopefully when he gets back to his dorm room, Jonas will take pity on him and Isak'll be able to guilt him into buying him some tea.  _Hopefully_.

 

* * *

 

Isak wakes up with a jolt.

He can't figure out what exactly it is that made him wake up. All he knows is that he'd been hazily dreaming about something good, something that made his head pound and his heart kick into overdrive. He's so frustrated that-

Jonas kicks him in the face.

Isak splutters. "Jonas!" he shouts, shoving him away. Jonas falls onto the ground with an  _oof!_

"What the hell, bro?" Jonas groans sleepily. He sits up, and Isak can almost _see_ the glare directed towards him amidst the inky darkness of the room. "Why'd you fucking shove me?"

Isak is speechless. "Why were you in my bed?"

Jonas rolls his eyes. "Uh, because I was  _sleeping_?"

"Why weren't you sleeping in _your_ fucking bed, genius?"

"I had soccer practice late last night. Didn't have time to shower. Didn't want to get my bed all sweaty, so I slummed it with you," Jonas says easily.

Isak is in shock.

"What."

Jonas makes a disgruntled sound and stands up. "It's not that difficult of a concept to grasp, Isak."

"You can't just do that!

"It's not a big deal. Please relax."

"What!" Isak is honestly _gobsmacked_. "Of course it's a big deal! You slept in my bed while you were sweaty and dirty from soccer practice. And you slept upside down too, with your _dirty_ feet near my head! How is that not grounds for anger! I should sue you!"

"Chill."

Isak huffs, letting it go.

Jonas trudges over to the bureau and picks up his phone, checking the time. He flicks on the lamp, rolling his eyes pointedly when Isak hisses at the sudden influx of light assaulting his eyes. "It's almost time for your stats class, dude. You're going to be late."

Isak grunts, falling backwards onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling.

He really hates his life sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Isak drops his bag unceremoniously onto the ground next to him and drops down into his chair, slouching onto the desk. He buries his head in his arms. He's planning to stay like that for the rest of the class period, unless the professor forces him to sit up and pay attention, which is doubtful. Isak has absolutely zero patience for statistics right now.  _None_. He's sleep deprived, moody, and seconds away from what feels like death. The only way he'll get up is if someone  _forces_ him to.

Ten minutes later, Isak sits up, frowning. He can't sleep. And he's  _bored_.

Isak bounces his leg restlessly. The girl next to him shoots him a dirty look, so he sticks his tongue out at her. 

'Bite me,' he mouths.

The girl scowls at him and turns away.

Isak is going out of his mind with boredom. He sighs, resigning himself to actually having to pay attention to the lecture. 

_How annoying._

Luckily, his saving grace comes in the form of the guy sitting in front of him. 

 _Squash Guy!_ Isak thinks gleefully. He had completely forgotten about his existence. Now he has entertainment. Thank god for his peripherals. 

Isak leans over his seat, peering at the guy's laptop screen. However, instead of squash this time, he's looking at _radishes_.

Isak quirks an eyebrow.  _Radishes?_ _Interesting._

Isak doesn't think he's ever had a radish before, but maybe he'll try one now. They look cool, he supposes. 

The guy is doing the same thing as he did last time; he's copying and pasting pictures of radishes into a word document and is typing entire paragraphs to accompany the pictures. Isak is impressed; with the exception of maybe biology, he's never had this much dedication towards anything, let alone  _vegetables_.

Isak leans his head on his hand, staring open-mouthed at the guy as he works dutifully. The back of his head and the slant of his shoulders seems entirely too familiar, but Isak can't place from where he's seen him before. The guy's blonde hair wisps into the collar of his jacket, and his fingers are long and adept. Isak's mouth practically waters.

Isak gets shaken out of his reverie when the guy starts to move, signaling the end of the lecture. He gets up and shoves his laptop into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The boy starts to turn around but, before Isak can get a glance of his face, the girl next to Isak taps him on the shoulder, directing his attention to her.

She looks annoyed. "Your chair is caught on the strap of my bag and it's time to go. Can you move or something?"

Isak grumbles, but complies. She stalks off without a backwards glance or a thank you.

Isak shrugs it off, looking back at the chair in front of him. His heart sinks when he realizes that the boy has fled again, leaving Isak with still no clue as to who he is. 

Isak scowls.

 

* * *

 

"Stop squinting at me."

"No."

"Isak."

"Jonas."

"You look like you're constipated. Stop it."

Isak keeps squinting. 

Jonas sighs, kicking Isak under the table. "Why are you like this." It's rhetorical, but Isak answers it anyway.

"I'm just trying to figure out how it's possible that you spent so much time on your hair and yet you still manage to look like shit."

It had taken approximately forty minutes for Jonas to finish putting hair gel and product in his hair. Isak had been dangled, upside down, on his bed, watching Jonas with sullen eyes. The room smelt like a sickening combination of AXE and sea salt spray. Isak is pretty sure Jonas is going to inadvertently kill him through chemical inhalation.

Jonas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee. "Stop being immature." 

Isak just sticks his tongue out.

"You realize that you just proved my point, right? That's, like, the most immature thing ever."

Isak keeps his tongue out.

"Besides, you don't even _get_ to tell me that I look like shit or make fun of my appearance. You literally had a  _crush_ on me."

"I did not!" Isak splutters. 

Jonas shoots him a deadpan expression. "Second year of high school. You stuffed cheesy Internet valentines in my locker every day for two months straight until I confronted you and then you spilled an entire bottle of water in my lap and didn't talk to me for like a week after."

Isak stares at him. "That wasn't me."

"Yes, it was."

"No."

"Isak. Do you  _want_ me to pull up the pictures of the cards you gave me? I'm sure Magnus still has pictures somewhere. I could text him right now and ask..." Jonas trails off, quirking an eyebrow.

Isak reaches over and slaps a hand over Jonas' mouth aggressively. Jonas doesn't even flinch. "Don't you dare," he hisses.

"Isak!"

Isak is interrupted from throttling Jonas in the middle of the coffeeshop. He glances over at the person who has disturbed them, doing a double take when he realizes that it's the boy from the other day, the library assistant with the  _carrot tie_.

Only this time, he's not wearing a carrot tie. Far from it. Instead, the boy has on a bright red hibiscus Hawaiian shirt. 

Isak stares. Jonas looks nonplussed. The boy looks excited.

"Isak!" the boy repeats, louder this time, as if Isak hadn't heard him the first time from two feet away. He's not wearing his glasses, so his eyes are big and eager, looking down at Isak with joy. "What's going on here?"

Isak snaps out of it, flushing deep red when he realizes that he's half out of his seat and leaning over the table, his hand still plastered to Jonas' face. Jonas seems to realize this too and licks the palm of Isak's hand in retaliation.

Isak drops his hand and sits in his seat.

"Hello," Isak says primly. He dusts himself off and picks his tea up, sipping it as if he hadn't just been caught in the middle of assaulting Jonas. "How are you doing?"

The boy beams at him. "I'm doing great! How about you? No vending machine incidents since last time?" he teases. Isak's heart melts. Despite the shirt, he is still  _horribly_ attracted to the boy. 

 _Dammit_.

Jonas lets out a snort suddenly, ruining his calm facade. "Vending machines? Is _this_ the guy with the carrot-"

Isak kicks him under the table. Jonas stops talking, frowning petulantly. Isak is regretting telling Jonas about the vending machine incident. He's never talking to Jonas ever again.

"No, no. No vending machine incidents. Ha, ha. This is my terrible, horrible, awful roommate, Jonas. Don't listen to a word he says. Ever. Jonas, this is..." Isak breaks off, suddenly realizing that he doesn't know the boy's name. 

"Even."

_Even! I finally know his name!_

Isak tries not to look too pleased on the outside. "Even. Jonas, this is Even. Even is a library assistant who..." Isak trails off abruptly, realizing something. He whips his head around to look at Even and eyes him suspiciously.

"How did you know my name?" Isak says accusingly.

Even blinks owlishly at him. "What?"

"Just now. You called me by my name. I never introduced myself to you. How do you know it?"

Even just stares. "What?" he repeats.

Isak huffs. _What is wrong with this kid._  "What?" he shoots back.

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

Jonas slams his hands down on the table. "Enough!" he barks. "Stop talking."

Isak sits back in his seat, pouting. "Whatever," he mutters. 

Even hums.

"That's a nice shirt, Even," Jonas ventures pleasantly after a couple moments of tense silence.

Even grins, touched. He places a hand on his chest, over his heart. "Thank you, Jonas! That's really nice of you to say, honestly. They're hibiscuses. They're one of my favorite flowers right now. Hibiscuses represent delicate beauty," Even says proudly. 

"It's never a bad time to feel delicate," Jonas says sagely. Even nods solemnly along, as if Jonas had just said something particularly profound. 

Isak stares at both of them in disbelief. "What are you even talking about?"

Jonas turns to look at him, as if Isak had asked an inane question. " _Hibiscuses_ , bro. Try to keep up," he says condescendingly. 

Even shakes his head and redirects his attention to Isak. "Anyway, I was just passing by and I saw you, so I figured I'd come in and say hello. We had such a good time last week, vending machines aside, so I wanted to see you again!"

Isak blushes and smiles, his grouchiness dissipating. _This boy._  "I had a nice time too," he says softly.

Even preens at that. They dopily smile at each other for a few moments.

Jonas makes a small, disgusted noise in the back of his throat, and starts to stand up, gathering his coffee. "As much as I'd hate to cut this little gathering short, Isak and I should be going. We have a movie to get to." He leaves the coffeeshop in a flurry, leaving behind a lingering cloud of the smell of AXE.

If Isak could kill people with a glare, Jonas would be a pile of ash already.

Even's face falls slightly. "Oh. Okay. That's okay! It was nice talking to you...I hope you enjoy your movie."

Isak grimaces. "Oh, well," he says, scrambling for something to say. "It'll probably suck."

Even frowns, bemused. "Oh."

"Yeah...they're showing _Happy Feet_ at the local theater and Jonas is apparently _so_ excited to see it, so." Isak stands up, his face burning. He clears his throat and slaps his hands together. "Well, Even. It's been a pleasure. If I don't get out there soon, Jonas'll kill me, probably." Isak gestures to the door where Jonas has just exited out of and picks up his cup, turning to follow.

"Wait!"

Isak turns around. 

Even looks bashful, but hopeful. "Can. Can I maybe get your number?" Even asks. Isak almost melts into a puddle of goo.

_This boy is going to be the death of me._

"Yes. Yes, yeah. Yup. That sounds good. Yes. Sure." Isak stops babbling for a second to squeeze his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and hands it to Even, watching as Even types in his contact information with swift movements. Even shoots a text from Isak's phone to his number and locks it, satisfied, and hands it back to Isak.

"Enjoy  _Happy Feet,_ Isak."

Isak smiles. "I'll try." He walks backwards out of the shop, never taking his eyes off of Even. His plan to look cool backfires horribly when he trips over the leg of a table and almost upends a poor couple's food. He apologizes profusely and turns around, power walking out of the shop with the sound of Even's giggles trailing behind him. 

Jonas raises an eyebrow. 

"Shut up," Isak mutters.

They're barely five minutes away from the coffeeshop when Isak gets a text from Even. He feels butterflies in his stomach.

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_Have an_ ice _time! :D_

Isak clutches his phone to his chest and smiles, sighing happily.

"Why do you look so weird? What's wrong with you?"

Isak is so happy that he almost doesn't push Jonas away.

_Almost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally i think the chapter title is a work of comedic genius


	2. the e(ggplant)nd

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_:(_

 

**Isak**

_What?_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_:(_

 

**Isak**

_?_

 

**Isak**

_Are you okay?_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_:(_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_I'm sad because you haven't texted me back since last night :( :( :(_

 

**Isak**

_Hahahahahaha. Needy much?_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_:(_

 

**Isak**

_Sorry, I got busy._

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_Jonas told me that you've just been playing Mad Libs with yourself ..... :(_

**Isak**

_What the hell????? No I haven't!!!!!!!!!!!_

 

**Isak**

_Also ? Wtf? Since when do you talk to Jonas?????_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_Me and Jonas are tight. He says you're acting aloof so I'll like you moreeee_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_I already like you Isak!! You don't need to act aloof for little ol' me ;)_

 

**Isak**

_Jonas is a filthy liar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

 

**Isak**

_I don't even care whether you like me or not!!!!!_

 

**Isak**

_Ugh._

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_You're so cute <3 <3 <3_

 

**Isak**

_Shut up. What do you and Jonas even text about anyway?????_

 

**Isak**

_Even??????_

 

**Isak**

_Helloooo???_

 

**Isak**

_Do you and Jonas text about me?????_

 

**Isak**

_EVEN!!!!!!!_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_(:_

 

**Isak**

_What is that supposed to mean??????_

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_Wouldn't you like to know.... ;) ;) ;)_

 

**Isak**

_Stop texting Jonas._

 

**Isak**

_Bye._

 

**Even (flower emoji, sun emoji)**

_< 3_

 

* * *

 

There is a flower on Isak's desk when he walks into his statistics lecture.

He picks it up gingerly; it is white and pink and very delicate. The petals are soft and buttery to the touch and fan outwards, surrounding the center like a halo. He doesn't know exactly what _kind_ of flower it is, but it's one of the most beautiful flowers he's ever seen in his entire life. Isak hugs it close and buries his nose in the flower, inhaling deeply. It has a sweet and subtle smell, and Isak is sure that he looks ludicrous, standing in the middle of the lecture hall with his face stuffed into a flower, but. It's eight A.M., someone has left a flower on his desk, and he's  _tired_.

Someone clears their throat.

Isak picks his head up, bleary-eyed, and glares at the person, who turns out to be the girl that sits next to him.

"Can I help you?" he snaps. 

She gives him an odd look. "What the hell are you doing," she says. 

Isak bristles. "I'm smelling a flower. What does it  _look_ like I'm doing?" he shoots back. 

"In statistics?" The girl makes a big show of looking at the clock on the wall. "At eight A.M.?"

"People can enjoy flowers at any time of the day, in any setting," Isak sniffs back. "Are you saying that it's a  _crime_?"

"Chill." The girl rolls her eyes. "Why do you even have a flower?"

"If you must know," Isak begins, sitting down with a huff. " _I_ didn't bring one. Someone  _left_ it here. At my desk."

The girl looks even more unimpressed. "How do you even know if it's for you?"

Isak's shoulders droop. He frowns. "Whatever. It's not like-"

Isak's eyes spot a small white square on his desk, and he picks it up, smiling victoriously when he reads it.

"See!" he says, shoving it in the girl's face. "See! It  _is_ for me."

The girl pushes him away.  

_Rude._

"I can't read it when it's two inches in front of my face." She looks at the paper. "'For Isak'," she reads. She quirks an eyebrow. "Okay?"

Isak scoffs and blows a raspberry at her. "I have a secret  _admirer_."

"You're a child," the girl says, rolling her eyes again.

"Whatever. You're just jealous... _girl_ ," Isak says lamely.

"I have a name, you know," the girl says.

"Do I _look_ like I care? I have a secret admirer!" Isak boasts gleefully. "I have a secret admirer and you don't!"

The girl gives him a dirty look. "Stop talking to me. Bye." The girl angles herself away from Isak and puts in her headphones. 

Isak's good mood lasts throughout the rest of the lecture. He isn't  _that_ happy that he actually listens to the professor, of course not, but he does spend the entirety of class staring dreamily at a random spot on the wall, periodically picking up the flower and shoving it in his face to smell it. 

He's so happy that he doesn't even notice the boy in front of him, who seems to have taken an interest in turnips.

 

* * *

 

_Petunias: Anger and resentment._

Isak slams the book shut and dials Jonas' number.

"What."

"Petunias!" Isak yells, forgetting he's in a library. The woman farther down the row startles, looks at him warily, and scampers off.

Jonas sighs. "Yelling a random word into my ear isn't going to help me understand what you're talking about, Isak."

Isak stays silent, trying to get his breathing under control.

"You breathing heavily in my ear isn't going to help me understand what you're talking about either. It's rather creepy," Jonas says.

"Someone left a flower at my desk in my statistics lecture this morning. Addressed it to me," Isak wheezes.

Isak can practically  _hear_ Jonas' eye roll. "And?"

"And! I came to the library and looked up what it was in one of those flower symbolism books and. It's a  _petunia_ ," Isak spits, as if it's a dirty word. "Petunias mean anger and resentment."

"Wow. That sucks," Jonas says unsympathetically. "Listen, when are you going to be back? I'm craving peanuts, so if you can pick some up on the way, that'd be great."

"Fuck your peanuts!" Isak yells. He should really stop doing that. It's a  _library_. "I'm going to be murdered, and all you can think about is peanuts?"

"Isak. Just because someone left a petunia at your desk does not mean someone's going to kill you. You probably pissed someone off again. You do have a tendency to do that, you know."

"Screw you!" he shrieks. "Take it seriously! Someone  _resents_ me! They're _angry_ and they're communicating with me through flowers. Through  _flowers_."

Jonas ponders this. "That's very unique, actually. Like, Jack the Ripper and Ted Bundy didn't do that. They just straight up murdered their victims. This person's actually being creative about it. Cool."

Isak is steaming. "I hate you asshole! Don't ever speak to me again you fuck-"

Someone lays a hand on Isak's shoulder.

Isak drops his phone and whips around, letting out a blood-curdling scream. He backs up and presses himself up against the bookshelf and flails his arms, attempting to bat the person away.

"Isak!"

The hand pulls him closer.

"Calm down!"

Isak calms down.

"Oh. Hello, Even," Isak says. He straightens his shirt and combs his fingers through his hair, trying hard to act as if he hadn't just been having a panic attack in the middle of the library. "Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?"

Even looks shocked. "I'm a library assistant," he says faintly.

"Cool. Cool." Isak picks up his phone, noticing that the call is still connected.

"Isak? Isak? What's going on?" Jonas' voice demands from the phone.

"Hi Jonas. Everything is chill. I'll ttyl. Bye."

"What? Did you just say the acronym ttyl out _loud_  instead of the actual phrase? What just happen-"

Isak hangs up.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at Even, who seems to have regained some color in his face.

"Cool tie," Isak says, pointing at Even's tie, which has watermelons on it. "It has watermelons on it. Very classy."

"Thanks."

Isak nods.

"Why were you screaming?" Even asks.

Isak shrugs, laughing nonchalantly. "Oh. That. Was I really that loud?" He  _refuses_ to feel embarrassed. 

"I could hear you from all the way across the library."

Isak brushes it off. "I just got some very disturbing news, that's all."

"Oh," Even says, worried. "Is everything okay?"

"Nah, everything's good. Except I'm probably going to be murdered in my sleep, but whatever." Isak's laugh turns just a tad maniacal. 

Even looks alarmed. "What?"

"Someone left a petunia on my desk this morning. Petunias mean anger and resentment," Isak explains. "Some unknown person is angry and resentful of me, and they're expressing it through flowers, so I'm probably going to die."

Even suddenly looks shifty and averts his eyes, taking an interest in a spot behind Isak's head.

"Can I see this flower?"

Isak blinks. "Okay?" He takes the flower out of his pocket and hands it to Even.

Even stares down at it for a while and bites his lip. "This isn't a petunia, Isak."

"Oh."

"This is an amaryllis."

"Oh."

"An amaryllis symbolizes splendid beauty."

" _Oh_."

"Yeah."

Isak feels warm. He peeks up at Even and smiles shyly. Even doesn't look at him.

"Well. Guess some random person in my statistics lecture can't get enough of ol' Isak Valtersen and his beauty," Isak teases. It falls flat. The air is tense and he can't understand  _why_.

Even looks at him and squints, hard. "I love plants," Even says suddenly.

Isak is taken aback. "O-okay? I'm happy for you, buddy."

"I love flowers," Even says, taking a step closer to Isak. He's so close to Isak that he can see all of the individual hues and shades of blue that make up Even's eye color. Even presses him into the bookshelf and brackets Isak's body with his arms. He tucks the amaryllis behind Isak's ear. 

Isak can't breathe.

"I know a  _lot_ about flowers," Even continues. His fingers trail across the side of Isak's neck. "I know a  _lot_."

Isak is scared but oddly aroused. He doesn't know why Even is threateningly talking about his green thumb like some kind of horticulturist serial killer. He doesn't know why Even is trapping him up against a bookshelf in his place of work. But  _fuck_. Isak is so turned on.

Even leans down and licks a stripe up Isak's neck. "I have a  _blog_ about plants," Even whispers lowly. Isak whimpers. "I have dozens of books about flowers in my dorm room." Even's lips latch on to a spot just below Isak's neck and he starts to suck,  _hard_. Isak's eyes roll into the back of his head. 

Even pulls off after a minute. He looks at the mark on Isak's neck, eyes dark, and swipes his thumb over it. "I take  _statistics_."

"W-what?" Isak pants. 

Isak's voice seems to break through to Even. He shakes his head, as if to clear it, and backs off of Isak until he isn't pressed against the shelf anymore. 

"Sorry," Even says sheepishly. He adjusts his glasses and pulls on his tie to loosen it. A strand of hair has fallen in his face, dangling precariously in the middle of his forehead, and Isak stares at it, trying to regain his breath. 

"I hope your flower situation gets solved," Even says, and flees.

Isak stares after him, still panting.

_Um._

 

* * *

 

"Is that a  _hickey_?"

"Shut up Jonas!"

 

* * *

 

Isak flops on to his back, sighing loudly.

So far, he's gotten a red tulip, an orchid, a lily, a daisy, and a sunflower. Isak is flattered, but frustrated. He just wants to know  _who_ and  _why_.

To make matters worse, Even is avoiding him for some reason. Isak has been texting him and has been visiting the library relentlessly (he's visited so often that he's even struck up a friendship with one of the older ladies, Bertha. They even go out to eat sometimes), but to no avail. Even has seemingly vanished off of the face of the earth. 

Isak groans and rolls over on his bed, staring at Jonas, who is perched on the windowsill. He has a joint in his mouth and a guitar in his hands, strumming a few chords every now and then as he looks out over campus. The sun's setting rays cast his face into amber tones. Isak thinks he looks very dramatic and poetic.

_No wonder he's a theater major._

"Jonas."

No answer.

"Jonas."

Still no answer.

Isak picks up a pillow and throws it at Jonas, narrowly missing him by a hair and instead hitting the desk lamp, causing it to topple over.

Jonas turns to look at him, alarmed. "What the fuck?"

Isak huffs and sits up. "Jonas," he says, drawing out the  _s_. "I need help!"

Jonas raises an eyebrow and takes a drag from the joint. "What are you talking about?"

"I need help! With these flowers!"

"What about them?"

"Argh!"

Isak flops back over and buries his face into his pillow. He lets out a muffled yell.

"Stop being such a drama queen."

Isak picks his head up and glares.

"I have legitimate cause for being dramatic! My life is in shambles."

"Flowers are nice," Jonas hums thoughtfully. "I love flowers."

"Good for you," Isak mumbles.

"I don't know why you think flowers are ruining your life."

"Because!" Isak cries. "I'm getting sent flowers that mean very nice things but I don't know  _why_!"

Jonas rolls his eyes and sets his guitar aside. "Look. If you want to know why, just ask Even yourself. It's pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that he likes you, but if you need some sort of confirmation, then just go  _confront_ him."

Isak fish-mouths. His throat is very dry all of a sudden.

"W-what?"

Jonas looks unimpressed. "What didn't you understand about that?"

Isak clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. He tries again. "Even. Even is the one giving me flowers?" Isak says roughly. He sounds like a chainsmoker.

"Didn't you know?"

Isak shakes his head.

"Oh."

Jonas looks uncomfortable. Isak licks his lips.

"Sorry bro. I genuinely thought you knew. He's been texting me about this for weeks now. He even posted about it on his blog and everything."

"He posts about it on his _blog_ ," Isak repeats quietly. "On his  _blog_."

"Like, what flowers he's picked out for you and everything.  _Shit_. I can't believe you didn't know. I just thought you were playing hard to get. Which, now that I think about it, kinda doesn't make sense, since you're pretty desperate and all bro." Jonas laughs, uncomfortableness forgotten. " _Everyone_ knows you want his dick. Me, Eskild, and Sana even made a groupchat about it."

"...Who is Sana." Isak's voice is hoarse.

Jonas looks at him incredulously. "Sana? The girl who sits next to you in statistics? She says that you and Even have some kind of weird mating ritual going on."

"How does Sana know Even?"

Jonas stares at him for a few beats of silence. "Statistics," Jonas says slowly.

"What does statistics have to do with anything?" Isak says irritably. 

"They're both in your statistics class? Even sits right in front of you?" Jonas shakes his head in disbelief. "What the fuck dude?"

_Vegetable Guy is Even._

"Oh," Isak says faintly.

"How didn't you know?"

"To be fair, I don't function in the mornings."

"Fuck. You really are the most oblivious person in the world."

Isak nods.

 _Vegetable Guy is Even._ Isak's mind is like a broken record.  _Vegetable Guy is Even and he's been giving me flowers._

"I. I'm going to go," Isak says. "I should talk to him. To Even."

Jonas, for the first time in his life, looks sympathetic. He stands up and squeezes Isak's shoulder.

"Good luck bro."

Isak nods again, still shocked, and leaves the room.

 

* * *

 

"Bertha,  _please_."

Bertha looks at Isak kindly. "Honey, you know the drill. I can't tell you when Even works. It violates university library policy."

" _Fuck_ university library policy, Bertha!" Isak yells. He slams his hands down on the front desk. Bertha barely flinches. "I need to know where he is! This is a matter of life and death! This is a matter of  _true love_!"

Bertha just stares at him as she stamps books. 

"I'm  _desperate_."

Bertha stays silent, but Isak can see that her resolve is crumbling.

"I'll do anything." Isak decides to pull out his secret weapon. "I'll even pay for the next three brunches, Bertha."

Bertha finally cracks a smile and Isak breathes a sigh of relief. She leans over to the other side of the desk and pulls out a pen and paper. She scribbles something down and folds it up, sliding it to Isak across the desk.

Isak stares at her. "What are you doing? What is this?"

Bertha shrugs. "I saw it in an American movie once. Just unfold it and read it."

Isak unfolds it and reads. 

_His shift is in an hour._

Isak looks up at her and smiles in gratitude. He practically leaps across the desk and gathers her into a hug. Not too hard, though, because she's still old and he's afraid of breaking her.

"Thank you, Bertha," he breathes. Bertha just pats his back.

 

* * *

 

Isak is loitering around the European History row when he sees him.

Even is standing at the edge of the welcome area, leaning on the front desk. He's obviously just gotten here, entered and clocked in at the back entrance. He's talking quietly with Bertha and wearing a pleasant smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Isak pauses momentarily, trying to catch his breath at how  _good_ Even looks, especially after a prolonged period of being away from him.

Isak jumps out from behind the row and starts running.

Bertha is the first person who catches sight of him. She widens her eyes comically and drops the book she's holding. Even catches it and puts it back on the desk before turning to see what had caught Bertha's attention. His eyes widen comically as well when he catches sight of Isak.

Isak jumps.

Even catches him easily in his arms, as if acting reflexively. Isak's arms latch around Even's neck and his legs wrap around Even's waist. He's panting and there's a cramp in his side, but none of that matters because  _Even is here and holding him in his arms and oh my god_.

"Isak?" Even shouts in surprise, which  _ow_. 

Isak ignores the way his ears are aching from Even shouting directly in his face. There are more pressing matters to attend to. "Even!" he wails. "Oh my god, Even! I missed you so much, oh my god!"

"What are you doing here?" Even is significantly less loud this time, which Isak appreciates greatly.

"Even! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you giving me those flowers and I didn't know that you were in my statistics class and oh my god I'm so dumb and oblivious. I'm so sorry I didn't realize it was you I'm such a dick oh my god. Oh my god. Even. Oh my god," Isak wheezes. "The flowers were so nice and they made me  _so_ happy and I'm  _so_ glad you sent me them. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you liked me, even though Jonas told me and you kinda told me yourself. I'm sorry I'm so oblivious and I'm just. I'm sorry and I missed you."

Isak takes a deep breath.

"I  _love_ you!" he cries.

Even blinks. Bertha slinks away.

"Isak," Even breathes, reverent. He touches Isak's face. "Isak. I missed you so much."

Isak buries his face in Even's neck and breathes a sigh of relief. 

"I'm sorry I overreacted," Even continues on. He hugs Isak closer and strokes his hair. "It's just. I felt a little weird when you acted like you didn't know that I liked you and that you didn't notice me in your statistics class, even though I sit  _right in front of you_. And I felt a little silly because I thought it was all in my head and so I overreacted and avoided you and I know I should've just talked to you but I didn't and.  _God_ , Isak. _I love you too_."

Isak nuzzles closer, almost breaking out into sobs as he listens to Even. "Love you so much. I want to be your boyfriend so bad. I'm sorry I'm such an oblivious asshole."

"Love you too. I want to be your boyfriend too. _I'm_ sorry I'm such a melodramatic douchebag."

Isak picks his head up and smiles at Even through the tears clouding his eyes. Even smiles back shakily through his own tears. 

"I'm sorry I thought you were sending me death threats through flowers."

"I'm sorry I gave you a hickey in the middle of the library."

"I'm sorry I ditched you to watch  _Happy Feet_ with Jonas."

"I'm sorry I helped you get your hand stuck in a vending machine."

"I'm sorry I-"

Even cuts off Isak with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3**

_I have a surprise for you._

 

**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3**

_Come outside your building._

 

**Isak**

_I'm busy._

 

**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3**

_:(_

 

**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3**

_Pleeeeeeeaaassssssse? :( I'll give you a free blowjob._

 

**Isak**

_?_

 

**Isak**

_Your blowjobs are already free? It's not like I pay you every time you give me one? Wtf?_

 

**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3**

_Oh my goddddddd. It was a figure of speech._

 

_**Even the Sexiest Boyfriend Ever <3 <3 <3** _

_Please just come outside? I love you <3_

 

**Isak**

_Fine._

* * *

 

"Why are you holding a bouquet of roses?" Isak asks suspiciously when he gets outside.

Even turns to him from where he's leaning against the wall and beams. He pecks Isak on the lips and pulls him into his arms.

"Hey baby," Even says, and Isak's temporary grouchiness melts away when Even kisses him again, deeper this time.

"These are for you," Even says when their lips disconnect, holding them out to Isak. Isak takes them gingerly and blushes, burying his face in the bouquet and inhaling deeply. 

"I love them," Isak gushes. "I love  _you_."

Even's grin widens and he winks.

"This isn't the surprise."

"Oh."

"Follow me."

Isak follows him.

 

* * *

 

They've been walking for fifteen minutes. 

"Even," Isak whines petulantly. He swings their joined hands and takes another whiff of the flowers clutched in his other hand. "Where are we  _going_?" It's not like he's particularly annoyed. The weather's nice, the campus looks beautiful, and he's strolling around hand in hand with his _boyfriend_ /one of the most beautiful men in the world. Life is pretty good for Isak right now. 

Even smiles patiently. "We're almost there, baby. I promise."

Soon enough, they've rounded the side of the building they've been walking around and Isak stops dead in his tracks. His breath catches and the roses almost slip from his hands as he tries to register what Even has brought him to see.

Even smiles at him and takes a step back, spreading his arms wide. "We're here, baby."

The entire field behind the building is  _covered_ with rows and rows of various, plants, vegetables, and flowers. It practically looks like a farmer's wet dream. From where he's standing, Isak can see dozens of roses, daisies, turnips, tomatoes, and even  _pumpkins_.

Isak's mouth drops open.

"What."

Even's smile widens.

"This is my garden. I call it the Garden of  _Even_ ," he says, pronouncing it like _Eden_ would be pronounced. He giggles, clearly pleased at his joke.

"What."

Even's smile droops. "Um. Even? Like  _Eden_? It's a biblical reference to Adam and Ev-"

"I know. What the Garden of Eden is. I just don't understand. How did you do this."

"Let's see. So. I've always loved plants, as you know. And I've always wanted to grow them and experiment with growing them and everything. But the university has a strict policy against that, and they shot me down every time I asked. So. Um, I took matters into my own hands and just started growing a bunch of shit over here, at the bottom of the hill, near this building because  _no_ one ever comes back here and-"

"Even," Isak breathes. "Are you telling me that you've been illegally growing things back here like some sort of  _guerrilla_ _gardener_?"

Even looks uncomfortable. "Um, yes?"

Isak starts to smile. "Oh my god, you're brilliant. I'm in _love_ with you."

Even looks relieved. He bites his lip and smiles. "Really? I was worried you wouldn't like it or approve. Jonas told me you would but-"

Isak holds his hand up. "Wait. Back up.  _Jonas_ knew about this before I did?"

"Um, yes?"

" _Jonas_?"

"I-"

"Jonas knew about this before your own  _boyfriend_?"

"I'm sorry, baby! I was just so worried and I wanted it to be a surprise and I love you so much and Jonas is your best friend so he knows you  _so_ well and-"

Isak interrupts him with a kiss. "Oh my god, you beautiful boy. I love you so much. It doesn't matter anyway. You're so brilliant.  _Fuck_. You're so smart. I can't believe you're doing this. _I_   _love you so much_."

Even grins. "I love you too," he coos. "Happy early anniversary present, love."

Even pulls him into a kiss, smiling into it when Isak makes a soft, contented noise. They almost trip over a rogue strawberry plant in their haste to be closer to each other. Isak almost melts, marveling at how wonderful and amazing his boyfriend is. He's so happy and so content and so  _in love_ that he could cry. He could shout from all of the rooftops with how much he adores this boy.

Isak sighs into the kiss, pressing closer.

Isak loves Even  _berry_ much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried with the title :(
> 
> talk to me on tumblr @kingofpoplouis


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